


Bad End

by Random_ag



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Everybody Dies, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Murder, Sorry Boys Thats How It is, henry keeps doing whatever it is hes doing even when he shouldnt, joeys fuckery fucks him back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 16:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17186723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_ag/pseuds/Random_ag
Summary: Revenge tastes sweet, even when it's poisonous.





	1. Golden Paint Will Lead You

New loop. New tally mark. New words.

Written in an unsteady handwriting, like a child just learning how to do so.

 

_**Here? n?o Yes here is here is herehelphelphelp folow** _

 

Henry looks around. The ceiling and walls are covered in golden paint.

 

**_foLLow what wahtw hat follow brck cribk brick brick YES BRICK BRICK BRICK BRICK GOLD BRICK ON FLOR ON FLOOOR GOL D BRICK ON FLOR FOLLOW_ **

 

Whoever wrote seems agitated. Maybe they need help.

On the floor there’s a rough rendition of a yellow brick road stomping all across the floorboards, trying to direct him.

Henry follows it.

Not even half-way through the bricks smear and get ruined. Golden footsteps lead him to a door.

It’s locked. It has always been. He knows it.

But the footprints go through it and new writing yells in his hears.

 

**_knock knock all is ok all is ok keep keep keep knock KNOCK ALMSOT ALMOST ALMOST AGAIN AGAIN AGAIAN AGAIN AGAIN ALMOST ALMSOT PLEASE KNOCK KNOCK_ **

 

Henry knocks twice.

Something seems to fall heavily on the ground behind the door as if what was holding it up was cut.

 

 

Henry knocks twice, again.

It hits the door with a strong boom and begins turning and twisting the doorknob hysterically, as if absolutely needing to open it.

 

 

 

Henry knocks twice for the last time.

The door opens towards the inside, gently.

 

 

There’s nobody.

 

 

But the steps keep going deeper in the dark.

Henry follows them, and soon enough

 _ **NOT NOT NOT NOT**_  

the only source of light are

_**NOT HIM NOT NOT HIM NOT HIM IM NOT IM NOT** _

words

_**GO AWAY GO AWAY AWAY AWAY RIGHT NOW GO AWAY** _

dripping

_**LEAVE ME ALONE LEAVE ME LEAVE ME ALONE** _

from

**_OUT OF ME OUT OF ME OF MY BODY MY MIND_ **

the

_**DEMONS DONT HAVE DIFFERENT EYES** _

walls.

 

A bendy silhouette is higlighted, his face crossed out violently. All around it are desperate writings.

 

_**NO UP NO UP DONT UP LOOK NO UP NO UP NO UP DONT LOOK UP NO** _

 

A golden drop falls on Henry’s nose. Some others gently hit the ground around him. He raises his head.

 

Golden soles.

Golden hands.

A face covered in golden paint.

 

_**goodnight. and dont dream me** _

 

The lights come back on.

The crying Bendy shows his grin. Wandering is a terrible sin.

Henry stares at the corpse on the ceiling.

 

 

The rope holding it breaks.


	2. Black Ink Will Douse You

A long tunnel. The light reaches out to him. 

Something grabs him. 

Holds him down.

 

Wants to take his place.

 

He pulls.

 

Pulls. 

 

Pulls.

 

P u l l s.

  

New loop.

New tally marks.

He knows what to do.

Just faster.

 

He goes through everything as always. Mechanically. He can’t feel anything. Nobody can notice anything, and even if they could the wouldn’t. Everything smoothly goes according to the script.

Until the end breaks everything apart.

 

This place.

How nice.

How warm.

Not now.

Quick.

Where is it?

Quick.

Over there.

Quick.

Now it’s broken.

Quick.

Where is he?

Quick.

“Henry? So soon? I didn’t expect you from another hour yet.”

 

Joey speaks. He quietly climbs the table. So, when the old man turns, they are face to face.

 

God, how he missed this.

He really did.

Breathing deep breaths.

He moves the wheelchair gently.

 

The couch feels soft under his tired body.

His arm seems a little numb.

He’ll clean up later.

For now.

He’ll sit.

 

Maybe eat a little.

 

Letters blabber sweet news on the wall.

There’s a photo he must have gotten recently. A family of three.

The parents look a little spent as they hold the child. But they love him.

 

His body trembles slightly, as if it was made of jelly.

 

This is it.

 

A noise comes from the kitchen.

He doesn’t move.

 

This is it.

 

The laments stop.

It’s so quiet.

 

So quiet.

 

Melting in a permanent death looking like a black pool is slow and warm.

 

Eska rubs his neck with the hand that vivisected Joey and left him to die on the kitchen floor.

 

 

The noose doesn’t feel so tight anymore.


End file.
